Stories
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The Detective began to write it all down in a notepad.
"Slept under a hedge", the inspector repeated.
This was a quaint way of putting it I thought.
"Do you know exactly where it was that you slept?" he asked.
"No idea I answered."
"We are investigating the murder of a child in Dover" he continued, "in the late afternoon or early evening of the day in question. A blond young man on a white scooter was seen in the vicinity, and we have seen by the scooter downstairs, that apparently is yours, and by your appearance, that you match the
description of the reported sighting."
"Well" I said, "I did see something about it in the paper the next morning, at a coffee shop on the M1, but that is all I know about it."
The Detective on the side watched me intently as he was jotting down my story. I was thinking I am in something of a pickle on this, since I had no alibi whatsoever. I asked them how it was they had found me, thinking it was a remarkable achievement a person --- me --- exactly matching the description someone had given, in a city of at least a million. The Inspector told me that the woman at the first bed and breakfast that had claimed to be full, had reported me as a scruffy and unkempt lookin' blond lad on a white scooter.
Having jotted down everything I had to say the Inspector asked me if I would like to sign it. I refused. He asked me why. I said, "I have no alibi. Without an alibi, if I am to be taken into custody I may need to leave myself some wiggle room.
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